Courtesan for a Knight
by vysed
Summary: 1554. Her Majesty sends her vicegerent, Sir Edward Masen, to Venice, Italy to acquaint Cardinal Cullen with the latest news from England. On invitation from Doge Aro, Edward stays at the Palazzo Volturi where he meets the courtesan Isabella.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Courtesan for a Knight

**Summary: **1554. Her Majesty, the Queen, sends her vicegerent, Sir Edward Masen, to Venice, Italy to acquaint Cardinal Cullen with the latest news from England. On invitation from Doge Aro, Edward stays at the Palazzo Volturi where he meets the courtesan Isabella.

**Terms**:

*_Il Catalogo di tutte le principale e più honorate cortigiane di Venezia_ - this was the published catalog listing the names, addresses, and fees of the prominent courtesans in Venice. It really existed. A yellow pages/phone book for whores. Go figure!

*_Doge _- the senior most elected official in Venice, chief magistrate, and serene leader.

*_Vicegerent _- one appointed by the ruler of a country to act as its administrative deputy.

*_Palazzo _- home of the affluent. Larger and more palatial then common houses.

*_Rialto Bridge_ - built over the canal to increase traffic and rents to the city. The market was on the east side and the lower prostitutes (_cortigiana de lume_) tended to live near it and practice their trade there. The true courtesans (_cortigiana onesta_) were intellectual and considered much higher class.

*_Cavaliere _- Italian equivalent of a hereditary English Knight

*_Coteccio _- card game.

***CfaK***

The servant girl ran up the steps of the palazzo, bursting into the Doge's apartments. "They're here! They're here!" she yelled as she pushed open the door to his bedroom. She continued in her excitement, paying no mind to the naked woman sitting astride the Doge. "The English ship has anchored, and even now they row through the canal!"

The young courtesan, Jane, tossed her head back and laughed as Doge Aro released his grip on her hips and slid his hands up to palm her breasts. "Has Sulpicia prepared the rooms?"

The mention of his wife caused Jane to growl and make attempt at her dismount. He released a breast to slap her bottom and force her concentration back on the task at hand.

"She has," answered the girl, Jessica, as she scooped up Jane's dress and slippers, impatiently holding them out in front of her.

The Doge took a tighter hold of the young courtesan and flipped her beneath him. He began a series of thrusts accompanied by his words, "We must finish, my beauty, for I have a Knight of the Queen of England rowing his way to a private council with the Cardinal, and I am to intercept him and - oh! - offer welcome."

Jessica tossed the dress and slippers back on the floor and ran to the Doge's wardrobe. She had just reached in to retrieve his cap when she heard him moan out his completion and fall upon Jane. Doge Aro reached across the bed and pulled the rope, signaling his manservant, while also instructing Jessica to help Jane wash.

Afton entered with the Doge's purse and held it open as Aro counted out sufficient coin for his tryst. He put the gold in Jane's velvet reticule and then removed the ruby ring from his pinky. It was the very one he had confiscated from a street vendor who was foolishly selling sweets in the market without a license. "Here, my dear. Take this ring that has been in my family for generations as a token," he lied smoothly.

Jane giggled and kissed the Doge. "Same time, a week next?" She asked him as she put on her slippers.

He shook his head and smiled wide. "Sulpicia is off to the country in two days time. She is to attend my sister during her lying-in. And I am to host a party here to introduce the Queen's Knight to Venice properly."

Jane squealed and clapped her hands. "You tease, to keep this secret from me! I shall consult the _Il Catalogo di tutte le principale e più honorate cortigiane di Venezia_ immediately and send 'round your cards." She took a moment to help him button his shirt before taking leave.

The lead gondola made its way toward the Rialto Bridge which loomed over the canal that was littered with all manner of Venetians cheering and tossing flowers. The Queen's vicegerent, Sir Edward Masen reached into his lap and plucked away the yellow roses that were gathering there.

His childhood friend - and one of his co-council for this trip - Jasper Hale, the Earl of Whitlock, leaned over the side of the boat and threw a handful of roses back at a prostitute who had pulled her bodice down and shook her rather full bosom. His eyes followed their swaying like a ship rolls with the waves.

Edward grimaced and pulled his friend back by the arm. "Please, Whitlock! Remember we are here to do business on behalf of Her Royal Majesty and try conducting yourself befitting the Crown!"

Whitlock turned, tossing another handful of roses while chuckling and ignoring his friend.

However, Emmett McCarty, who was brother to the Queen's goddaughter, Mary McCarty, responded to Sir Edward, "I have heard tales of the Venetian courtesans and am very much looking forward to showing respect to our hosting country. You would have me snub the Doge and refuse him the honor of his own fair city's recommendations?"

McCarty clapped his friend on the shoulder and continued, "Why you might as well invite foreign nobility to our homeland and then force them to sit through Tournaments blindfolded."

Sir Edward looked up again at the Rialto Bridge and winced in contempt. "These whores of Venice are no better than the serving wenches of Whitlock County. If this is what Venice boasts then I fear we may indeed offer insult to the Doge."

"I say! Be kind to my wenches." Whitlock protested. "And these are not the courtesans of Venice fame. No. These are marketplace prostitutes. I believe the true feminine jewels are treated quite as nobility by our hosts and we shall only meet them upon invitation."

He turned to McCarty for support, "And should that invitation come, I bet even the loyal and respectable Sir Edward shall forget his own wife's name!"

All three laughed as their gondola settled in front of the stone steps to the piazza where a group of men awaited. They took a moment to acquaint their feet to solid ground as one man stepped toward them and bowed before speaking in heavily accented English, "My Lords, may I present His Serenity, Doge Aro Volturi."

Introductions continued and the Doge's man left to intercept the travelers' servants and oversee the proper installment of their belongings at the House of Volturi. The remaining party of men were escorted to the Palace where they were offered refreshment and settled to meet with the senior ecclesiastical.

Cardinal Carlisle Cullen was quite content with his post in Venice. He gladly accepted the letters and discussed matters of state with Sir Edward. By these meetings, the Cardinal learned that the religious affairs were moving forward prosperously for the Crown. His Holiness, the Pope, would be delighted to receive word that the daughter of Queen Katherine was most anxious to right the heretical society borne in England!

He knew that commencing in negotiation should be put on hold though, so that the Queen's delegates would not misinterpret that he, the Cardinal, was under any order from the Signory. Besides, these things take time. They agreed to continue their meetings on the morrow and allow the travel weary men to return to their host.

Across the piazza, Isabella sat in her library reading through a copy of Francois Villon. Her secretary entered, poured her wine and, together, they then sorted through the cards she had received. Tossing several aside, for the senders lacked enough gold to meet her price or were just too boorish, she stopped at the extravagant invitation from Doge Aro.

"I love when the Doge opens his gardens," she said aloud while fanning herself with the card. She bade her secretary to cancel any appointments she may have for the afternoon as it was of greater importance now that she must call upon her friends, Rosalie and Mary-Alicia.

This trio of courtesans was famous in Venice, nay, through the whole of Italy and France. Rosalie's beauty and sharp, teasing wit won her many patrons. She was also fierce with a sword and liked to put on a small act at parties, especially as a pirate.

Mary-Alicia was most known for her voice and talent with the lute. She was able to direct the demeanor of those in attendance with flirtatious ballads (and her perky breasts).

Isabella used knowledge and words to seduce. Her talent for playful debate easily transformed into romantic poetry recitation during love making. Many of her own patrons puffed in ego (for it _must _be their own prowess and masculinity that inspired her) at her ability to rhyme their _member _with varying words synonymous in their size and longevity.

Isabella was met in front of her home by Mary-Alicia and together the two women made their way to Rosalie's whose maid showed them in to the sitting room. Rosalie was posed suggestively and unabashedly across a chaise. Her arm was thrown over her head as she reclined and a long strand of pearls teased her naked left nipple. The windows were wide open and a cool breeze kept her nipple erect.

Rosalie moved her hand to wave them in and the artist, Caius Tintoretto, threw his paint brush down. "No! No more! Why, Beauty? Why do you torment me so?"

The three girls giggled while the painter continued, "And you," he said, turning to Mary-Alicia, "You did this, too! All through the hours I painted you. You twitched! You moved! Ack!"

He waved his arms and Isabella laughed as Rosalie mimicked him from the chaise.

"And now, someone will ask that I paint your friend as well?" He pointed to Isabella. "Beautiful? Yes. I should find patience to paint laughing girls who won't sit still?" Caius snapped and his assistant appeared with a new brush. "I should learn to paint in the dark. I should learn to do so, so that I can capture your beauty as you sleep!"

He turned back to Rosalie, "Now! No more moving. See my gray hair?" He pointed with the brush to his head and yellow stained his temple causing all three girls to laugh loudly and the pearls across Rosalie's nipple finally slid out of place. Caius groaned and motioned for his assistant to replace the necklace; who did so, only too happily, and perhaps with a wet finger as well.

***CfaK***

On the third day of the gentlemen's attendance at the Palace, they sat among the Venetians as the wealthy citizens debated city business including rents at the marketplace. Whitlock slouched in his chair and huffed in annoyance as Sir Edward elbowed him.

McCarty leaned over and spoke out of boredom, "I am disappointed that we have, as yet, to see evidence of these tales of brilliant and masterful women lovers. Am I to believe that courtesans do not exist and the only beauty to be seen here is within the presentation of the feasts that Doge Aro's wife sets for us?"

Whitlock snorted. The feasts were grand indeed. The Doge went to great lengths to fatten his guests.

A break was called and a fine man of impeccable dress approached the three Englishmen. He was accompanied by the Cardinal who initiated introductions. "Hello, friends. Allow me to present Felix Donato, Duke of Parma." He then turned to the men walking up behind him and introduced them as Count Marcello Dimitri of the House of Este and Cavaliere Alex Friuli, Knight of the Holy Roman Empire and loyal servant to King Charles.

Dimitri spoke up first, "We did not see you last evening. You were surely missed. Our parties are renowned and we expected you to come and sup with us."

Whitlock stepped forward with a frown, "We were not informed."

"Bah! The Doge likes to keep our city's important guests to himself!"

Whitlock turned to the Duke of Parma, "I say, Donato. In the future, you are to send your man directly 'round to avoid another loss of invitation."

"Please. Here, friends, you must call me Felix!" Next to him Dimitri rolled his eyes and Felix shook his head, "What? I like it."

McCarty reminded them, "We are invited as guests of honor this evening at the Doge's garden for entertainment."

Dimitri nodded and raised his eyebrows, "We will be there. You can be sure it is to be a grand time. Already, I have heard that many guests are to attend!"

This satisfied Whitlock and allowed Sir Edward a reprieve from playing governess to his friends who had been behaving much the spoilt children. Or, to be more accurate, they were randy as virgin lads who had yet to wet their wicks. How their wives must suffer!

Sir Edward conducted himself more severely. He was a new husband of only a few months and had not spent enough time with his wife to realize that she was cold and unkind. So far, he had mistaken this as the shyness of a censured, well-brought up lady. Why, they had only coupled three times since the union of their souls in holy matrimony; and he had yet to relieve her fully of her nightshift.

True, he had hoped for more time to get her with an heir before leaving on his commission. And, true, he was looking forward to more thorough explorations of breasts and other womanly parts, but he was not convinced, nor particularly concerned, that these women of Venice would be any different than those of his previous acquaintance at court, or his wife.

For now, he happily reflected on the extremely lucrative dowry his new bride brought with her fine figure (he was mostly guessing) and deceptively shy disposition (he would be sorely mistaken).

After all, he had only known her but two weeks prior to the wedding and was soon sent away on the Queen's business thereafter. How was he to know that her large dowry was to compensate for the guilt, or maybe relief, that his bride's father felt in shackling his eldest daughter to Sir Edward?

***CfaK***

In the center of Doge Aro's most prized gardens a number of gentlemen, recognizable from the Palace, were standing in a circle drinking wine and discussing the politics of the day.

The Doge, himself, sat on the grass surrounded by large pillows of a shimmering and colorful fabric. More gentlemen unceremoniously threw themselves down, laughing and rolling amongst the cushioning.

Behind the Doge, a young beauty massaged his shoulders while two others poured ale or wine for those with him.

Nearby, a table was set with food and a number of men stood there being fed by women or, in one case, being chased around the table in a laughing game.

"No. Not at all like court," Sir Edward mumbled to himself as he took in the varying groups engaged in conversation accompanied by beautiful women - he grudgingly admitted. It was as if they had bloomed from this garden. By this sun. For their enjoyment only.

No, indeed! These were not at all like the prostitutes dangling from the Rialto Bridge. Nor were they like the ladies of court who made no move at all - less they offend - except to gossip.

Whitlock crossed himself and put his hands together in prayer, "God save the Queen! Thank her for this most enjoyable mission and her infinite wisdom in choosing your loyal, and obviously sensible, servant Cardinal Carlisle as recipient for her most important business of this political nature."

McCarty snorted at his friend and stood between both men, putting a hand to their shoulders and shaking them as his grip tightened. "Shall we?"

At that moment, the Cardinal stood up from a blanket that was spread beneath an olive tree. He waved the men over and as both Whitlock and Sir Edward were still staring at the scene presented, McCarty used his grip on them, steering their direction.

The Doge stood as well and joined them. "Ah, you made it. You see we start our celebrations much before the sun sets."

The men exchanged bows with the Doge as the Cardinal offered a hand to the lady who now sat at his feet. As he pulled her up, the Englishmen took in the blatant impropriety while the woman only laughed and wrapped her arms around the Cardinal.

"Countrymen, this is my dear and personal friend cortigiana onesta, Esmeralda."

The woman bowed her head, "Esme," she insisted and then the Cardinal kissed her full on the mouth, momentarily shocking the guests of honor even more.

Felix and Dimitri arrived next and were able to persuade Whitlock and Sir Edward to join them in a game of cards. McCarty preferred to speak with the Cardinal longer.

One woman at the card table had beautiful hair the color of fading pale roses. She dealt the cards slowly allowing the men to drink and hold discussion. Since the other gentleman of the table openly stared at her breasts, the Englishmen swallowed their reserve and followed suit, taking note of her visible nipples and how they matched her rose hair in color.

Another woman appeared and brought them wine before joining the card game, and even Edward could no longer diminish the truth to the stories of Venetian beauties that he previously believed to be fabrication. Here was proof! A dozen, or more, indisputably glorious women surrounded the gardens and now he wanted to know if more of the tales were true.

Isabella had watched the Englishmen arrive. She was disappointed that they had not presented themselves at the House of Este last night. "And I wore my favorite gown," she had told Rosalie with a pout. No matter now. The Doge had most generously opened his coffers this evening so that the party was sure to last well unto the morrow. Courtesan fees paid, food for all, and wine aplenty.

She made her way to the coteccio table and as there were no seats left, she stood behind the man she found the more attractive of the three foreigners. Deciding it best to go with Chaucer for an opener, she leaned forward - hesitating a second so that her scent could linger - and without touching him, whispered in his ear, "A thousand times have I heard men tell, That there is joy in heaven and pain in hell."

The small hairs along his neck stood up and a shiver worked its way down his spine. The words tickled his ear and he turned to face the tempting voice.


	2. Chapter 2

Edward stood, facing the beauty before him. "Sir Edward Masen, Knight to Her Majesty the Queen."

"Odd. I thought it was Chaucer." she replied straight-faced before smiling and holding her hand out, "How do you do, Sir Edward?"

He bowed and placed a kiss on her knuckles. "I am well…"

"Isabella."

"Lovely."

Keeping a hold of his hand, Isabella pulled Edward forward to the table set with many fruits, sweets, and breads. Once there, she released him and set about preparing a plate.

"Have you been to Italy before, milord?" She asked coquettishly while taking a bite of an over ripe berry. The juice squirted followed by her quickly poking her tongue out to catch the drops from the corner of her mouth.

Edward stared before attending her question. "I have, though this is my first visit to Venice."

Isabella collected her plate of snacks and took Edward's hand once again. She led him to a small settee where the two made quick work of situating themselves. Isabella, to comfortably hold her plate; and Edward, to comfortably watch her eat.

***** CfaK *****

The sun had long ago set and the majority of those in attendance at the Doge's palazzo were well in their cups. The servants scuttled around the gardens replacing the candles in each of the lanterns that had burned down.

Sir Edward was so deep in conversation with Isabella that he had hardly noticed the activities of those around them. He now reclined on an overstuff pillow of purple-dyed wool. Isabella next to him, her elbow keeping her from lying flat.

"How does one request time with you?" Edward asked while running his finger along her collar bone.

Isabella pouted, "Milord? Have we not been much in company tonight?" She pulled the string on his tunic. "We've spent quite a lot of time together. I do believe we even discussed quite thoroughly your views on the Queen's steps toward purging the heretical society."

Isabella fake yawned with extreme exaggeration.

Edward pushed on her shoulder, forcing her elbow to give so that she lay flat next to him. He moved to lean over her as he held her down. "So, now I am to see Isabella the jester?" He put his forehead to hers, "You know my meaning. How does one request your time - intimately?"

"Oh, one finds ways," she teased as she lifted her chin a bit and placed a kiss upon his nose.

His hand resumed its place at her collar bone. His fingertips tickling over the soft skin, further down to where her breasts rose forming small hills upon her chest. Her breathing deepened and she spoke in a near whisper, "I would like it very much if you figured it out."

"I would like it very much if you just told me," he whispered back, drawing his lips closer to hers.

They were jostled as Whitlock planted himself on the ground next to them. He moved over so that his head lay next to Isabella's and he stared at the stars. "I am bewitched by her beauty," he said with a sigh. "And she refuses to tell me her name! Of our pain, let nobody laugh, but pray God would absolve us all."

Isabella laughed anyway, jostling Edward as he still lay stretched along side her. Whitlock continued to misquote the poet, Francois Villon, and _The Ballad of the Hanged Men_. "You, my brothers I call, do not scoff in disdain."

Isabella could take no more and sat up, pushing Edward over and on to Whitlock. "Please, milord, no more. You do not do the poet justice! Let us have more wine and seek your beauty's name."

***** CfaK *****

The sun shone through the olive tree branches that hovered above Edward and Isabella. He had fallen asleep moments before the first rays bled across the courtyard and now his head was nestled on Isabella's stomach as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Next to her, Mary-Alicia slept, as well as the Earl of Whitlock. The former leaning on the base of the tree while the other's head rested on her shoulder.

At her feet, the Doge snored. Jane stretched and noticing Isabella awake spoke quietly, "I am going to take my leave. Do you care to walk with me?"

She nodded and carefully untangled herself from the bodies surrounding her. Locating her slippers near the fountain, she and Jane set off for home.

***** CfaK *****

McCarty stood over his friends with his hands on his hips. He grumbled under his breath and gave each man a hard nudge with his foot. The two were cuddled together as babes in a crib.

"You might want to get up if we are to ride today," Emmett said, as he turned to make his way back to the stables where he had already been waiting for a lengthy part of the morning.

Within the hour, the three men were joined by Dimitri and headed east on their mounts to the vineyards managed by the House of Este. Dimitri teased the men as they rode for having such a late start. Further proof, in his mind, his countrymen could handle their drink better than the Englishmen.

Later, as they dined on roasted pheasant and sampled the wine, Sir Edward approached the subject for which he did not receive an answer from the courtesan, Isabella. Clearing his throat and licking his fingers he asked, "Dimitri? What is the process… Nay, I mean to inquire, how does one request the services of a courtesan?"

Dimitri smiled, glancing about them to make sure they were left alone from the women of the House. "'Tis simple really. A small letter, sometimes accompanied by a token, is sent to the _cortigiana onesta _you desire and if she agrees to your offer, she will reply."

"And if she does not agree?" Whitlock jumped in to the conversation.

"Then, my friend, you either move on, heart-broken, or you send another letter." Dimitri snickered, "It depends on how heart struck, or determined, you are."

***** CfaK *****

Isabella sat in her bath breathing in the lavender scent. Her maid attended her hair, applying the oils to help her remove the tangles. Her secretary entered the bathing room and held out a single letter. Isabella raised her eyebrows, "Just one?" I must be losing my touch, she thought to herself.

"Aye, just the one. Shall I read it?"

Isabella waved her hand and the secretary broke the seal.

_Upon my humble remembrance, praying for your health and prosperity, which on my knees do I beseech may long continue. After our hearty recommendations, I hope as to meet for consideration, to require you to signify by your private letter, whether to accept a most desired assignation. As you see, your loyal admirer moved swiftly and diligently, to seek the means at present and such that you shall answer thereupon with convenient speed. A token to arrive shortly thereafter, upon a response to my hands is delivered. I most anticipate and look upon a favorable condition. _

_With your remembrance to my humble admiration unto you, your dutiful and obedient servant, Edward Masen _

The secretary folded the letter, "And how shall you respond? He advises a token to be delivered only after? He presumes too much."

Isabella finished her ablutions, "No matter," she hushed her secretary. "I shall respond directly."

Once wrapped in her robe of silk, she sat at her desk and composed a brief reply:

_Knight to Her Royal Majesty the Queen, you do indeed move swiftly and intrigue with your proposal so to move me to accept and offer a night for a knight. Thus I commit you to health and prosperity, From Avenue del Veccio this fifth day of June, Isabella _

Early the next morning an exquisite volume of the works of Gilabert de Proixita was delivered to Isabella with only one simple line upon the note:

_You have only to name the time and place._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I am having way too much fun researching this time period. I even googled "letter writing in the 1500s" for you!**


	3. Chapter 3

Edward faced the door to number 54 Avenue del Veccio, gripping his last communication from Isabella. He felt his purse to assure the gold pieces were still there and had not been pilfered when he crossed through the crowd of the Rialto Bridge.

Her home faced a small flower shop and he considered running over to purchase her a bouquet, but then frowned at his own naiveté.

He paced in front of her building reminding himself that even his own father had taken mistresses. Gah! Isabella was not his mistress. He was not settling her with a home and restricting her company to himself only. She was a courtesan. She alone selected her assignations. She was female companionship for him while he was away from his homeland.

Nothing more.

Taking one final look around, he noted the side of her home faced the canal and dropped straight down in to the waters. There was a small balcony and the doors opened allowing white curtains to billow from within. He quickly turned and knocked on the door.

A very tall woman dressed modestly in black answered the door and without discussion, led him to a small parlor. "Signorina Swan shall be with you directly. You will wait here, no?"

"Si," Edward smiled at her heavily accented words and took a seat.

The woman moved to the side of the room and poured a glass of port for Edward. Isabella entered the room and moved to her side, taking the glass, "That will be all, Angela. Thank you."

Edward stood, bowed, accepted the glass of port, and then placed a kiss upon Isabella's fingers. She moved her hand to his cheek and caressed it for a moment. "I trust you had no trouble finding the address?"

"None," he said before taking a drink from the glass.

"I thank you for the lovely Proixita collection. I must admit that in my attempts to grow my library, I have failed greatly at stocking my shelves with my own countrymen."

"You must allow me to view your library soon. Perhaps _I can offer more _to your shelves _in areas you find lacking_." Edward finished off his port and set the glass down.

"Perhaps," Isabella said as she took his hand and led him through a set of doors and into a large hall. She looked over her shoulder and winked as they moved to a narrow staircase.

She used one hand to hold up her skirts as she navigated the steps. The other hand held firmly on to Edward's until they emerged at the top and into another hall. There she stood in the center of a magnificent rug of Oriental design and spoke to him in a near whisper, "So, Sir Edward, what will your pleasure be?"

Isabella indicated for him to remain standing in place and then moved to the first door behind her. "Do you fancy adventure? Fairy tales? A whimsical escape?"

She smiled and curtseyed then moved on to the next door. She scrunched her face up and took on a gruff tone, "Are you angry, Sir Edward, and wish to punish all who disobey you?" She made fists of her hands before pushing them to her hips.

She stomped angrily across the hallway, affecting her character, and stood in front of the third door. Edward turned to face her as she arranged her face in to a docile, yet coquettish, smile. "Do you tire of working hard serving your Queen, and have needs to be fed, bathed and cared for in your own right?"

She noticed his eyes light up as she left that door and stood directly in front of him at the entry to the fourth and final room. He waited for her to continue and when she did not, he inquired of her, "And what of this room, Isabella?" He raised his chin in the direction of the door she now blocked.

"That, milord, is not a room you are ready for." She stood on her toes and placed a kiss upon his chin. "I do; however, believe that you are leaning toward door number three, no?"

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest. "I would love to have my _needs _met, signorina." He kissed her lips slowly then stepped away, "But only if you join me, of course."

At this, Isabella laughed. "Of course."

She stepped away and he quickly put his hands to her waist, gripping and pulling her close to him so that he could follow behind her - paying attention to not step or trip on her skirts. She opened the door and a lovely floral scent wrapped around him. She placed her hands on his at her waist and led him to an ottoman that sat facing large windows.

"Please sit." Isabella strode toward the door leaving him to relax.

The windows were open and the evening's summer breeze made the room comfortable. The scent he now noticed was indeed flowers. The room faced the florist's shop across the avenue and he could see a large variety of blooms in stock atop the roof of the shop. He turned from the window and took in the room before him.

To the far left there was an Grecian silk screen which was folded back, exposing a tub big enough for one to sit in fully. It was much like those of the public bath houses that his father used to frequent before King Henry shut them down many years ago.

In the opposite corner, there was a heavy oak table, the legs intricately carved with vines and symbols. It was clear of any items. Behind the table, a tapestry of no less than seven pieces covered the wall, depicting men and animals as they hunted a unicorn.

Finally, facing him, near the open windows, was a harpsichord. He returned his vision to Isabella who was back at the door speaking to someone. She moved aside as two women entered with buckets of hot water and added them to the tub that was already partially full. "You knew I'd select this room?"

"No. I hoped," she replied, then pointed to the instrument. "Shall I play for you while your bath is filled?"

Edward wanted nothing more but to touch her. Instead he inclined his head toward the harpsichord and watched as Isabella's smile lit up her face. "Excellent! I have a score from Rome's own maestro Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina."

Edward did not want to wonder nor ask just how Isabella came in to possession of such a score. In fact, he decidedly did not want to know how she came to learn the instrument at all. He frowned for but a moment. His tempered thoughts carried away by the movement of Isabella's back as she played.

When the movement completed, Isabella rose and told the servant that she may bring up the food and drink and set the table. She then turned to Edward and walked around the ottoman. From behind him, he felt her hands as they rested on his shoulders. She gripped harder and kneaded the muscles at his neck.

"When I was a girl, still living with my mama, a very old woman came to stay with us. She brought many things from her country and said that her master wanted to gift them to my mother for her kindness to him when they met in Rome.

"The woman was short and wore clothes that I had never seen before. Her eyes were slanted and she did not speak our language well, so my mother conversed with her in a different tongue. She stayed with us for over two years and I even learned a bit of her language.

"But, the most important thing she taught me was called _massage_. It is the art of healing aches through touch." She moved her fingertips over his scalp and he moaned in pleasure.

Isabella reached around his neck and took a hold of his jerkin by the collar. He automatically raised his arms and lifted slightly off the chair as she slid it off his person. She placed it on the ottoman next to Edward and performed the same action with his doublet. She then moved around the seat to face him.

She kneeled before him and gently massaged his calves, working her way up to his thighs. Edward stared at her hands as they rubbed each muscle in his leg. His eyes drawn to her face as she exhaled a puff of air to blow a strand of hair away from her eyes. His hand moved of its own accord to brush the escaping pieces of her brown hair back again. He watched as she firmly gripped his heel and removed his shoes, one then the other.

Next, she stood betwixt his knees and untied his linen shirt. Anxious now, she bent forward and gathered the material at his waist, pulling it up. She paused as he fervently reached forward and untied the lengths at his wrists, then continued to remove the article. She tossed it atop the jerkin and then stepped back and taking his hands in hers, she pulled him toward the bath.

Edward noted her bold stare as she took in his form. Her eyes rested a moment longer upon his codpiece and he involuntarily and uncomfortably swelled.

Once beside the tub, Isabella released him to unfold the silk screen and enclose them from the rest of the room. He heard the door open and the sounds of the table being set floated back to him. His attention quickly returned to the hands that now allowed his trousers to fall away and then work at the ties of his codpiece. It was tossed aside and she kneeled once again to remove his hose.

Edward now stood bare before her.

Isabella placed a hand in to the water and gauged its temperature. He could not hold back a chuckle as she playfully flicked water at him. "The water is perfect. Please, relax."

He settled in to the bath and leaned back, watching her as she moved around to stand at the foot of the tub. Slowly, she removed her skirts and bodice. He raised a brow to her and returned her earlier teasing, by flicking water at her.

Finally, dressed only in her chemise, she walked to his side and knelt upon a wool rug. Once comfortable she again began the art of massage, this time working his strong arms.

"The oils in the water will also soothe," she offered as he leaned further back and closed his eyes with a sigh of contentment.

While he rested, she continued moving around him massaging and rubbing the oiled water into his skin. Switching to a cloth she urged him to lift a foot out of the water so she could attend to it, followed by the other.

Occasionally, he would lift an eyelid to peek at her while she concentrated her attention on each part of his skin that her hands worked. The sounds of the servants were long forgotten as Isabella hummed a tune he was not familiar with.

After a thorough massage of his person was complete, or so he thought, Isabella settled once again beside the tub. She placed the palm of her hand upon his chest and spread her fingers out. Slowly, she dropped her hand lower.

Edward lifted his own hand from the water and reached over the side of the tub. She looked down and watched as his fingers pulled the string of her chemise and revealed to him her left breast.

Her hand reached its own target beneath the water. Her fingertips taking an exploratory trail along the length of his member. His breathing hitched and he moved the pad of his thumb in a circular motion around her exposed nipple.

She responded to this by taking a firm, but gentle, grip and he challenged himself to focus on the words she spoke. "Oh, Knight, you are _here _and bring wicked desire, braced _stiff _in my hand."

Her strokes sped up and she removed his hand from her breast, guiding it to her mouth. He watched as she kissed each fingertip, saving his middle finger for last so that she could linger on it. Her tongue swirling around it before allowing it to rest happily inside the wet warmth of her lips.

He plucked his now wet finger from her mouth and drew it across her chin before leaving her skin to grip the side of the bath. The motion of her hand now forced the water to splash against the vessel and he lifted his hips in earnest excitement, releasing his seed.

After his breathing had resumed to normal, he stood - his body so relaxed that it took two attempts - and allowed her to dry him. Isabella presented a robe of green silk for him to wear. She led him to the table and after he was situated she went behind the screen again and removed her chemise. She changed in to a matching robe of green and wore nothing else.

The servants had left the room some time during his bath and Edward now sat at a table full of food. Isabella joined him and instead of sitting in a chair, she sat directly next to him - only atop the table.

His eyelids grew heavy with lust as her robe parted slightly to reveal her long legs. She did not stop him when he reached out and rested his palm on her thigh. Instead, Isabella reached back and prepared a bread with jam. She then proceeded to feed it to him, placing kisses on his cheeks, chin and lips in between bites.

"Shall you tarry in Venice long, Sir Edward?" she asked while plucking a slice of melon from the nearest plate.

"A few weeks more," he replied before taking a bite from the fruit she presented to him. "Her majesty requires us to return before the weather and tides prevent our sail."

"Is it a long journey? I've never been to England. Only France, Spain and other parts of the Empire."

"It is not so long by land. We would have to stop and visit many friends to the Queen if we passed through France. However, the Queen has other business we must attend in Spain, and she has also allowed the Earl of Whitlock to inquire on his trade investments in Portugal on our return. So, our journey is made longer by sea, but we accomplish much more."

Isabella sighed and sat up straight, "So, a few weeks, then?" She slid over the tabletop so that she now sat in front of him. He placed a kiss on her bare knee and then sat back to watch as she untied her robe and let it fall away from her shoulders.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Ok, seriously, you have no idea how much time I spent researching everything from attire to baths to tapestries. Including tracking down a map of Europe circa 1560, just so I could get the lay of the land correct. Also, I know more about harpsichords and the Venetian music movement than I would ever want to. FYI, the tapestries Edward mentions actually exist today and are called _The Hunt of the Unicorn_.


	4. Chapter 4

Sir Edward and Cardinal Cullen sat together reading a letter from the Queen. In it, Her Majesty announced that happily she had wed Prince Philip of Spain by proxy and now the _King and Queen of England, France and Naples, Jerusalem and Ireland; Princes of Spain and Sicily; Archdukes of Austria; Dukes of Milan, Burgundy and Brabant; Counts of Habsburg, Flanders and the Tyrol _- defenders of the faith, would bring England back in to the loving arms of a most forgiving and generous God at peace with Rome.

She called upon Sir Edward and his company to return to England by way of Spain and accompany her beloved husband to his new shores.

They would leave Venice in six days time.

Isabella, Rosalie, and Mary-Alicia huddled over a table full of fruit laughing. Rosalie had just described in extreme detail her latest outing with Emmett McCarty. He insisted on taking a tour of the Palace Gardens, no matter that she assured him the courting-style dates were unnecessary, and she had much to attend to at home.

"These Englishmen do love their strolls and genteel conversations."

Isabella stared off. Rosalie turned to her, "Do you not find it so?"

"Nay. I have met with Sir Edward upon four different occasions and very little conversation occurred." She winked at her friends. "I do concede though, that he is in favor of outdoor activity. He has requested an excursion on the morrow."

Mary-Alicia sat back in her chair and pushed her plate away. "They do keep us busy. The Duke of Parma is growing quite jealous, I believe. He has taken to sending me crates of wine with his letters of poetry. Unfortunately, they always seem to arrive just as Whitlock is leaving my sheets. But I am not able to help myself. Whitlock is eager and he is the first full-blooded Englishman I have ever met."

"Well, tonight we will attend supper at Lord Crowley's. It will be a small affair and our Englishmen will have to occupy themselves elsewhere."

Rosalie sat forward, "Esme has said that she and the Cardinal are hosting dinner for them. I hope you don't mind that I declined on our behalf."

The three women sat quietly looking at each other. Finally, Isabella smiled and patted Rosalie's hand. "No. Of course not."

* * *

><p>Edward stood in the gondola and assisted Isabella aboard. He lifted her from the steps near the palazzo and held tightly until she was able to situate herself comfortably upon the cushioned seat.<p>

"Where are you taking me, milord?"

He sat across from her and signaled the gondolier to push off. "I thought I would give you a tour of my ship." He pointed to the basket behind her. "I've had a meal packed and thought mayhap we could spend the night."

Isabella clapped her hands and then moved over to sit on Edward's lap, causing the boat to rock precariously. "That is splendid. I have not been aboard a ship - Venetian or otherwise. You shall show me the decks so that I can inspect and assure myself of your safety whence you depart."

He nuzzled her neck. "Do you say that you worry?"

"I am a very caring person. I shall worry much when you must leave."

Edward straightened and tightened his grip on her. "The Queen has requested my return already." He felt her eyes turn to his face. "We are to set sail in five days."

"Oh." Isabella returned to her own seat. "I so pray that Her Majesty finds reason to send you on her business again."

The two remained quiet until they were aboard, _The Volantyne_. A mate was on the deck surrounded by sails, his sewing kit ready at this feet. After their tour, Edward left Isabella at the helm while he spoke to the captain. She watched as an older man lay a cloth over a table and lit candles. He smiled a gap-toothed grin and held a chair out for her. She curtseyed and thanked him.

"Dinner'll be brought right up, miss."

Edward reappeared and sat opposite her. "The captain has assured me that we shall not be disturbed this evening. He will leave a handful of men with the ship and the rest of the crew will go in to town. I believe they have found many games to occupy them at Rialto Bridge."

Edward and Isabella ate as the crew disembarked. Once they had the deck to themselves, Edward led her to the stern and there he gave her a brief introduction to navigation. She took great pleasure in holding the heavy cross staff and listening to Edward wax poetic about the stars.

"So, have you read, _The Revolution of Celestial Spheres_? Do you side with Nicolas Copernicus?"

Edward laughed and said that he did not give it much thought. Whether we circle the sun or not, sailors follow the stars. He turned to her, "And tonight, brightest beauty, I shall follow only you."

Inside Edward's cabin, Isabella waited while he lit a candle. After he secured it in its holder, he pulled her to him. Fisting his hands in her hair, he bent to kiss her. "So sweet is your scent, so soft is your skin."

She quickly removed the clothing below his waist. As she pulled up her skirts, he lifted her and took her roughly against the door, unable to sustain his ardor. Her hands dug inside of his shirts and her nails clawed at his back, spurring him on.

After he had reached ecstasy, Edward waited for his breathing to slow. He walked to the bed where they fell in a heap and then raised himself to his knees and pushed his hands into the mattress at either side of her face. He bent forward and touched his forehead to hers.

"Forgive me? I had only my own delight in mind. My thoughts are filled with such urgency. I want only to be with you as much as I am able before we are to leave."

Isabella wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his body down so that his chest rested upon her own. "Hush! There is nothing to forgive. This is your time. You may have me as you wish."

They broke apart to fully undress and then meeting again in the center of the bed, Edward propped himself on the pillows. "I didn't fully comprehend the stories I heard before coming to Venice."

She cuddled next to him and ran her hand over his chest. "What stories?"

"You, my Bella. Even in England, we hear of the mysterious and beautiful courtesans. I did not believe there to be a woman of such power. Yet, now, I can not believe I ever doubted it."

"You say then, that England does not have courtesans?"

"I say that no other country I have visited has the beguiling beauty and talents that Venice has shown to me. I say that I will admit that I did not believe that an educated woman could give me so much more splendor. No pretence of naiveté. No false kindness to hide vile intent. Only want and desire without duty."

"You make me very happy not to live in England," she teased.

"No, Isabella. England is grand. I love my home, but I lament at her inferiority in just this one arena."

Isabella placed a kiss upon his lips and moved to straddle him. His eyebrows rose as he placed his hands around her thighs and moved them up to her buttocks. "And now what will you show me?"

"Now… I will show you how I learned to ride a horse."

Edward laughed and tightened his hold of her, pretending to turn her. "Then are you to sit side-saddle."

She pressed on his arms, "Oh no, _Sir Knight_. I am to ride astride."

* * *

><p>Isabella selected a blue fabric and was trying to decided on her favorite lace when her secretary entered with the day's cards. "You have seven today. Are you still not willing to read them?"<p>

"Not yet, Angela. I am not accepting any invitations until the English ship has left port." She held up two small strips of lace. "Now tell me, do you like the bobbin or needle?"

"With the blue? The needle."

"Thank you. Is there anything else?"

Angela walked back in to the hall and then returned with three men carrying different items. "Yes. These also arrived today. One is from Signor Marcus, the Doge's brother."

The first man stepped forward and opened a large silk box. "He sends you these pearls and requests an evening. His wife has given him a son and he wishes you to celebrate with him when he is next in town."

The second man lifted a large canister and Isabella peeked inside. She inhaled deeply and looked to Angela who said, "These are cacao beans." Angela waited and Isabella still looked confused. "They are from Señor Cortéz, the Spanish ambassador."

"Oh, yes. The drink he served when I last visited Spain." She filled her lungs again with the scent of the beans. "Delicious."

The third man came forward and presented a velvet lined box full of perfumes and scents. Isabella did not wait for Angela to continue. "Send these back." Then she turned to the beans and asked Angela. "Is the ambassador in town?"

"Yes. He arrived two nights ago."

"Pity. Send them back with a note that I am not receiving gifts until the new moon." She smiled at Angela, "And, keep the pearls. Signor Marcus will not be arriving in town for at least a week, if not longer."

She bade everyone to depart and returned to her fabrics. Tonight, the Doge was hosting another party. His last for a while as his wife and brother had requested his presence in the celebration of the newest member to the Volturi family. He would be leaving in three days for the country, departing as soon as the English set sail.

The invitation stated that it was to be a masquerade and guests should arrive only once the sun had set. A separate invitation from Sir Edward requested she dress in blue and silver to match his costume.

Along with Edward's invitation was a necklace. Small silver flowers were in a choker style and each set with an opal in the center. They were linked together by onyx settings and easily worn tight around the neck with a clasp of blue velvet ribbon. It was the most delicate item Isabella now owned.

Angela returned to the library and began to write notes on Isabella's behalf. She would be glad when the English left and things could get back to normal.


	5. Chapter 5

Venice Italy - June, 1554

Benito Cheney was a man of two and twenty years. His mother, a former Rialto Bridge whore and his father unknown. Benito's mother died of the sweats in the summer of 1541, and he was moved to the home of his mother's sister when he was but nine years old.

Although his Aunt Jane was a full five years younger than he, the household of her own mother accepted Benito into its bosom to assist with errands - mainly delivering notes and items to various locations by foot or raft - when the house full of women was out of sorts and preferred not to face day light. Over the years, a familial affection bonded the only two children living in the home full of _cortigiana de lume_.

Upon entering Jane's fourteenth year of life, her mother informed her that a benefactor had agreed to sponsor her education. Jane was packed up and moved to the home of the beautiful _cortigiana onesta_, Esmeralda. After her first year under Esmeralda's tutelage in reading, writing, and arts, Jane's nephew Benito was invited to join Esmeralda's household.

Benito was known throughout Venice. He had traveled the cobbled streets as well as the waterways, delivering missives on behalf of prostitutes, gamblers, married men, and upstart merchants for going on ten years. His knowledge of every address, street, building, and hidden alley not only within city limits, but also the outlying country, eventually earned him a position in the house of the Doge after Jane overheard complaints of how his own man delivered a most important document to the incorrect address. By her recommendation, Benito was installed unto the protection of the Doge, and he was gifted with a gondola from Esmeralda for his time in service to her household.

That is how Benito now found himself standing at the door to 54 Avenue del Veccio for the third time in as many days; the beautiful and tall woman before him shaking her head, "Again, Benny?"

"Si. I am not to return without a response this time."

Angela nodded and led Benito to the kitchen. "Here. Sit. Have some wine and bread while I take this up."

She took the note sealed with the Doge's wax stamp and climbed the stairs leading to Isabella's private chambers. Pressing her ear to the door, she stepped back as the sounds from within signaled there was to be no interruption for some time.

Benito stood quickly as Angela rejoined him in the kitchen. "An answer so quickly?"

"No, I'm afraid you may have to wait for quite a while yet."

He sat down again and smiled. "Three days?" He shook his head, "Here. Sit, too. Allow me to entertain you with news from the Palazzo."

***CfaK***

Sir Edward licked the sweet berry juices that had pooled inside the adorable button of Isabella's belly. She sighed her pleasure and ran her fingers through his hair. "'Tis soft, yet firm, my lover's tongue. As he touches my skin, I come undone."

He bent his head and trailed further down, burying his nose deep within her patch of dark, intimate curls. Isabella reached across the pillow that lay to her side and plucked another berry from the bunch that spilled there. She held it with her finger and thumb, poking Sir Edward's forehead with it. He growled from between her legs and then raised his head, snapping at the berry before returning to her pink entrance.

It was the third day of Isabella and Edward's self-imposed quarantine. Following the masquerade at the Doge's palazzo, Sir Edward walked Isabella home only to be unable to release her. As she parted from his lips to enter her house and close the door, his arm flew out and prevented the space between them from being severed. He pulled her to him for another kiss and then walked her inside, their lips not breaking them apart, too ensconced within each other's embrace to pay heed to their surroundings.

She led him up the stairs, walking backward, continuing her exploration of his lips as Angela fluttered around them picking up articles of clothing as they were discarded. A maid bent to help her but was quickly shoved from the hall and sent to shut the front door which was left wide open and allowed the flower girl, giggling from across the way, to stare inside as she opened her shop.

Three full days of pleasure and rapture within the walls of Isabella's private chamber. Her own room, that no man had ever before entered. The two only interrupted by deliveries of food, fresh bath water, cards and letters that were ignored and tossed aside.

Sir Edward raised up on to his knees and bent slightly to bury his hands beneath Isabella's bottom. Grabbing her cheeks firmly, he lifted her and teased his prick with her wetness before delving into her warmth. His stroking search sped up and he released her backside in favor of palming her breasts.

Isabella reached out, her hands searching for some part of him to hold on to, as she fought gasping breaths that only urged Sir Edward's desire. Her words leaving her lips as a spiritual chant, "Oh, please. Please! Yes! More."

Exhibiting the stamina and longevity of a true knight, nay, Roman warrior god, Edward pulled back. His prick stood tall and hard, pointing to the sky, as he flipped his lover and pushed back in to her cunny. He bent over and pressed his chest to her back, working at a new angle and rhythm that had Isabella calling out his name within moments.

A gentle hum left her body as she shook around him, taking more pleasure as Edward groaned curses that had never before left his lips. They parted from each other, rolling to opposite sides of her bed. Sir Edward lay on his back and clumsily reached out for the pitcher of water. He found it, as well as both of their cups, empty.

Isabella licked her lips with a dry tongue and raised to call for her maid just as there was a knock at the door. Edward did not bother to cover his naked body. He threw his arm above his head and muttered, "Away with thee! Beg that thou may have leave to hang thyself!"

Isabella giggled and draped a sheet over her lover. "Pray, be silent or I will bite thee to death."

Edward reached for her as she scooted away, flashing her teeth and laughing. She called out for Angela to enter. As she knew it would be her that knocked.

"Forgive my intrusion, but the Doge sends another letter and has bid his man to stay and await a reply." Angela moved to the table near Sir Edward. She blushed as she replaced the empty pitcher with a full one. She handed the letter to him while she refilled their empty cups.

With a slight curtsy at the door she spoke, "I will return shortly to collect your response, if that is acceptable, milord?"

Sir Edward nodded and Isabella laughed again. "Yes, Angela. That is well enough. Please see to dear Benny while he waits."

She left them and Edward sat up, handing a full cup to Isabella and then drinking from his own. She stuffed a number of pillows behind his back and then lay next to him as he broke the seal and read the letter aloud.

_Sent on behalf of The Serenissimo Principe to our very loving friend, Sir Edward Masen._

_Your countrymen and our own take worry. Your leave of absence from this place has tarried for three sunrises and we request word of your health. Lord Whitlock has requested a note to signify your desire for him to move forth with your staff in preparations of the loading of your personal effects aboard The Volantyne. At this time we pray that you are not unwell but merely partaking of the wonderful bounties that our Venice awards. Thus we commit you to God's good protection. Your lordship's good friend, Doge Aro Volturi._

Edward tossed the note to the floor. "Would only courtesy could suffer time. But, I fear they are right. I must take my leave and address the matters of preparing our departure."

Isabella turned her face away from him and sat up. He reached out and hooked his arm around her waist. "It is early yet today. I shall return after supping with the Doge and my friends."

"I understand, milord. I have much that I have put off and must attend."

Angela knocked again and this time Edward called out, "Tell the Doge's man that he may return to the Palazzo. I will follow directly and deliver my response in person."

"Very well, milord."

In the kitchen, Benito declined the coin that Angela offered for the time he was forced to wait on behalf of her mistress and guest. "No, _Angel_, please. Keep it in exchange for the refreshments and company."

He turned to depart but stopped and forced all of his courage to the front, "Are you able to accompany me to the procession in two days time?"

"To see the Englishmen off?"

"Si."

A beautiful pink covered her neck. "Si, Benny. I would like that very much."

* * *

><p>Uhhh...<p>

A/N: I made the mistake of setting a goal at goodreads. 125 books in 2012. Well, I started a series… and then got sucked in to more and before I knew it, three months had passed and I'd read over 100 books. Then I woke up to a ton of emails alerting me that a bunch of people were reading my little fic and I better pull my ass out of the cowboy erotica book collection I was attached to and get back in to the realm of the Renaissance. My research hat is back on and I'm talking to my husband like he's a peasant slave in 1500s Italy.

Please leave a review or even just drop a howdy. Oh, or if you have a goodreads page, go friend me. (See my profile page here on FF) Thank you for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

_Commedia dell'arte _- a form of theater characterized by masks and made by artisans.

* * *

><p>Sir Edward entered his rooms followed closely by the Earl of Whitlock. They both paused taking in the activity as servants scurried, packing up for the journey home. Sir Edward rubbed his face and then called out for a shave. He refused to bow to the style of beards that his peers wore.<p>

"This letter arrived for you two days ago." Whitlock produced a sealed document from inside his doublet and handed it to his friend.

"And you are just now telling me?"

"You bold ninny! I sent you a message and received no reply. You vanish like a ghost for three days and then appear with an accusatory tone?" Whitlock huffed and then marched away, leaving Sir Edward with a final adieu.

He sat to read his letter as his gentleman's gentleman prepared the soap and razor. His steward's missive informed him of the usual standings of his land, the servants, his tenents, Masen Manor, and other business affairs. It would appear that the cook was requesting permission to wed the scullery maid and the steward saw no harm as both were widowed a number of summers ago.

At the bottom of the letter, the steward signed off and there was a message included by a different hand. He took pause as he read a note from his father-in-law. Lord Eleazar apologized for the brief tidings but he wanted to send his felicitations and congratulations on behalf of all their loved ones. He also wanted to assure Edward that Lady Tanya and her maids are well situated back in her mother's embrace and childhood home until his return. They did not feel it proper to leave her alone at the manor now that she was with child.

The letter fell from his hands and he quickly jumped from his seat causing his man to _tut _in disapproval and try to wipe the remnants of soap from his face. Sir Edward took the towel and continued swiping at his chin. He had to find Whitlock and McCarty. Lady Tanya was with child. An heir for Masen Manor!

As the palazzo Volturi dining hall filled with those there to celebrate the birth of the Doge's nephew and the final supper of the Englishmen in Venice, Sir Edward was introduced to the Doge's brother, Signor Marcus Volturi. Watching the new father's joy, Edward reflected on his own responsibilities. The more he drank, the more he pushed down his undefined emotions for Isabella. He was to return home the day after tomorrow.

England.

A child.

His marriage. His Queen. His duty.

****CfaK****

Isabella sat across the table from Angela who seemed to be earning every trick in their card game of Alouette even though she interrupted each turn at play with an indiscreet yawn. The smell of the baker at work in his shop down the street drifted in through the open window of the study alerting the women to the late hour. If the baker was up then the sun would not be far behind.

"He's not coming."

Angela looked at her mistress and dropped her cards. "Oh, thank you!" She fell back in her chair. "I thought you would never give up. Please, may we retire now?"

Isabella threw her own hand of cards on to the table and frowned. "Of course. I apologize." She stood and waited as Angela took hold of the candle and led the way through the hall. "When I wake to break my fast please have all of my letters and cards ready to attend. I have fell behind and surely I will regretfully need to learn of all that I missed."

"You have received many invitations."

"Very well. Bring them all on the morrow and we will attend to each one."

"Good night, Signorina."

* * *

><p>The three Englishmen sat in the salon at the home of Cardinal Cullen watching as he packed a satchel full of items that would need to be delivered to the Archbishop. They talked among themselves; however, Edward paid little attention to the conversations around him. His head hurt. His heart hurt. He had locked himself in his rooms and fought all desire to go to Isabella last night.<p>

Now the guilt that ate away at him had the knight beyond confused. Was he feeling guilty for ignoring her last evening or was his guilt for his misdeeds in laying with her while his wife was at home quickening with his heir?

Every man he knew had partook of an interlude. Most more than one. No, his guilt was not for the act. There were just too many facets for him to conceive the myriad of emotions that caused his heart and head to wrestle and tie his stomach in knots.

The men stayed through supper with the Cardinal and agreed to attend a _commedia dell'arte_ that evening. Finding a seat amongst those surrounding the great fountain, Whitlock caught site of Mary-Alicia as she wandered the nearby games on the arm of a man he did not know.

He leaned over to Sir Edward, "I cannot believe we set sail tomorrow. I don't know if I am happy to leave this place or heart-broken to do so. It is torment for me."

Edward sat up straight and wondered if Whitlock had read his mind. He followed his friend's line of sight and something in his chest tightened. Standing abruptly he pulled Whitlock up with him. "I must go!"

"Go? Go where? Good God, man!"

"I will meet you on the deck of _The Volantyne _before she sails, Whitlock. But I can't leave - I can not return home - without saying farewell. I must go!"

Edward spun and found himself facing the Rialto Bridge. Gauging his direction, he turned again and ran all the way to Isabella's home.

****CfaK****

The women sat at a table trying to ignore the sounds that drifted in from the square. A play in the city always drew a large crowd and Isabella preferred to stay in this night with just her secretary and the numerous plates of cakes afore them.

A pounding on the door startled them and Isabella spoke through a mouth full of sweet dough, "Whoever it is, send them away. Tell them I am out for the evening."

Angela returned moments later. "It is Sir Edward calling."

"I said that I am out for the evening. Send him away!"

At that moment, Sir Edward burst in to the room. She stood and turned calmly, speaking with a chill to her tone. "I did not realize we had an appointment this evening, milord."

"Isabella, you must -"

"Angela. Did I receive a card from Sir Edward today? Mayhap it came last evening. Did you lose it in delivery, Angela? Do you think it went astray? Has it fallen under the table?"

"Isabella. Enough with the games, allow me -"

"Games? Oh, milord, no, _allow _me. It would appear that you have forgotten that _games _are just another service I provide."

At that, Sir Edward lunged toward Isabella. Bending at the knees, his arms encircled her waist and he lifted her off of the floor. Throwing her over his shoulder, he spanked her bottom. "Do not test me on this evening, Isabella. We have only a scant number of hours left before I am to leave your shores and I have every intent to take memory of our time together home with me. Happy and joyful times, Isabella. Memories to carry me and fill my heart. For God only knows when I am to return to Venice.

****CfaK****

The sound of cheering woke Isabella from her peaceful slumber. She blinked slowly and stretched her arms above her head. What a glorious night she had. The sweet coupling and whispered words of love followed by tears as she and Edward joined over and over again.

Edward.

_Oh no! _She sat up quickly and saw the sun was shining bright above the water already. Sir Edward lay on his back, the bed covers twisted betwixt his legs while one of his hands rested on his thigh and the other was hidden beneath his pillow.

"Edward! You must wake. I hear the parade as it leads your friends to your boat!"

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Ship, Isabella. 'Tis a ship."

She pulled at the covers and slapped his chest. "It is of no matter, for soon it will sail and you will have far to swim."

At that Edward jumped from the bed and began dressing. Isabella threw on her gown and opened her bedroom door, "Angela! Angela!"

A quick stomping of steps and Angela appeared. "I am on my way to the procession. Did you have needs?"

"You are quite grumpy of late."

Shocked and embarrassed for forgetting her place, the secretary dipped her head.

"No matter." Isabella waved her hand. "Are you still going with Benito? You must run and tell him that we have need of his gondola."

"He is here already. He waits now at the door for me."

"Excellent! Perfect! Do not leave. Sir Edward is still afoot and requires his services."

At that, the knight bounced in to the hallway pulling on his boot. "Get dressed Isabella. I will ask the man to wait."

She reached out for him as he finally secured his shoe and pulled him to her for a deep kiss. "This is good-bye, milord. I can not watch you sail away."

"You can. You must. I need you to stay with me to the very last."

Isabella reached inside her door and pulled a scroll from the table. "Take this, Edward. Be safe and may God protect you."

As the door shut on him, he considered banging it down and pulling her out, but Angela's heavy sigh warned him and he followed her below to the awaiting gondola that would carry him away.


	7. Chapter 7

Isabella walked hand in hand through the market place with Rosalie. Another beautiful day greeted them but Isabella was too much in shock to appreciate it.

"You are telling me that Mary-Alicia has left? When will she return?"

Rosalie stopped to admire a bolt of red silk. "She is not expected to return. She has left her house and staff in the care of Bree. It seems Lord Whitlock has his heir and a spare. His wife, Lady Maria, is a cold fish and he does not love her. So, he is devoting himself to our Mary-Alicia."

"She really left?"

"Yes. Quit repeating that." Rosalie rolled her eyes at her friend. "Lord Whitlock apparently hid her on the ship. He has apartments in Portugal and the Queen has given him permission to stay on there for a time. Then they will travel to Bordeaux where his Lordship has some stake in vineyards, before going on to England." Rosalie paused and waited for what she knew was coming.

"Mary-Alicia has left?"

"In her letter she said that Lord Whitlock is to purchase a home in London since he spends so much time there attending the Queen's business. Or Parliament, or something. I cannot recall at this time. He has even promised to take her to a bear baiting event. How barbaric." Rosalie sighed. "It will be dull as doom there for her. She is to be a kept woman and attend _only _to Whitlock." Rosalie visibly shuddered.

****CfaK****

"WHITLOCK!"

Sir Edward bellowed from the dank hall below deck. Lord Whitlock quickly turned and fled in the opposite direction. When the knight finally caught up to the earl, he grabbed him by the nape of the neck. "Pray tell me, Lord Whitlock," he began in a deceptively calm voice. "Is it true that we have a stowaway?"

Shoving the knight off, Whitlock took on every air of his high station, "I do not answer to you Sir Edward. You will do well to remember that. I disembark in Portugal with the Queen's authority and I will see you in London by Michaelmas." He paused. "Or Twelfth Night at the latest."

Sir Edward leaned against the wood beam and shook his head at his best friend. "I do not know if I am angry with your actions or if I am jealous." He snorted and ran a hand over his forehead and through his hair. "Either way, I am not to meet you in London until some time in the new year. I must spend Michaelmas attending my lands and as you already know, Lady Tanya is with child."

Whitlock held his hand out, "Then we agree to meet and celebrate when we are able to toast the arrival of your babe. Now, if you will excuse me. In a few days we set anchor in Spain and while you collect our King, I have promised Mary-Alicia entertainment."

****CfaK****

Lady Tanya sat with her sisters amongst the lilacs and roses in her father's garden. Her babe already causing her body to change.

As she had only lain with her husband a total of three times after he claimed her maidenhead and before the Queen called for him - God bless her - and since all of those occurred during the month of April (surely he will not expect it more often than that in the future), the midwife in tenancy on her father's estate gave notice to plan on her babe's arrival in late January or early February of the new year.

She concentrated again on the conversation and her sister, Irina, gloating about Queen Mary's intent to restore England to the Catholic faith. "You, sister, are only lucky she has forgiven your wicked Protestant ways and that she accepted Sir Edward's petition for marriage."

"I, lucky?" Tanya stood and began pacing behind her sisters. Her brow covered in sweat. "How am I lucky, dear sister? I have had to renounce my faith and beg forgiveness. I am sick every day now that my husband's seed grows inside me and I can not even attend court! Oh, I hate our father for making me marry."

She sat again and rocked back and forth while pulling at her hair. Her sister, Kate, jumped up and grabbed her arms. "Stop it. You will pull out all of your pins. Do you want to upset mother?"

Lady Tanya laughed loudly. She grabbed her skirts and proceeded to flap them. "I have wings of a bird and I must away. Don't touch my feathers. But, shh! Our mother scolds me." She dropped her skirts and pulled on her bodice. "It is so warm. Are you warm, my loves?"

Irina sent her maid inside for help. Lady Tanya had these spells of mindless fury occasionally as a child and their parents coddled her for fear she was going mad and would soon die or need to be sent away. Instead, the spells lessened, finally disappearing altogether, and all they were left with was a spoiled brat. However, since marrying, Tanya's bouts of madness were returning with more frequency and she feared for her sister.

Their father arrived and picked up Tanya, hushing her. "I have heard that our Queen has already sent _your _husband to fetch Her own. How funny is that, my dear? Would you like to hear the story?"

"I miss my friends, papa."

"I cannot allow you to associate with those who refuse to stay faithful to the one true religion."

"I want to return to Hatfield House and play with Elizabeth. We will sing and dance and make merry. Like the summer you let me stay there with her. Remember? Oh look, papa, someone has hung lace from the stars. Odd how I am blinded by the sun while the stars shine so bright." She hugged her father's neck as he carried her. "I wish to have pudding… and goose. Father, you will keep the ghosts from my room, yes? They like to play in the chamber pot!"

Lord Eleazar took his daughter to her bed chamber. Inside her mother sat with a prepared concoction of herbs and oils. "This should be enough. The physician would like to bleed her, but he thinks it would be safer to wait until after the birth of her child."

Tanya sat up and threw her pillow at her mother. "You whore! You are no queen of mine! How could you? Oh, Elizabeth. They were so mean. Let's ride today, shall we?"

Her father held her down while her mother cried. "She screams, cries, laughs, and her words make no sense."

Tanya turned out of her father's reach and expelled the contents of her stomach on to the floor.

"All we can do is pray, my love."

* * *

><p>Sir Edward stayed with the procession all the way to Winchester Cathedral. There, he attended the formal wedding of Queen Mary and King Philip before splitting off and riding to his lands north of Hertfordshire. Upon his departure he gave a letter to the Venetian ambassador who was also in attendance and had agreed to deliver it with his own correspondence.<p>

Touching the scroll he carried inside his doublet and next to his heart, Edward hastened to Masen Manor. He was welcomed with a feast and pleased to see that his wife had returned to once again take over her responsibilities as Lady of the Manor.

Her ladyship's mother was set up in rooms to stay until after the birth and already had her own midwife and the physician installed nearby.

After a lengthy meeting with his steward, Sir Edward retired to his rooms. There he withdrew the scroll and unrolled it on his desk. He used his cup to hold one corner down and a jeweled box to hold another. He rested his arm along the bottom and kept the picture flat as he stared in to the eyes of his Isabella.

****CfaK****

Isabella hugged Esme as she entered the library. "You are well, I trust?"

"I am very well. Cosimo I de'Medici, the Duke of Florence has had another son." Esme sat and fluffed her skirts. "I know, I know. Not a year goes by that he doesn't." Both women giggled before Esme continued. "He has invited the Duke of Parma and Count Dimitri to Palazzo Pitti, and of course, extended the invitation to Cardinal Cullen. He also requested that they travel with a retinue of _ladies interested in the arts_. We are to behold the great statue of Perseus by Benvenuto Cellini."

"Oh, Rosalie will be happy, she does love artists."

"Well, this artist loves his young assistant's arse, so she might be disappointed."

"Oh, no. Only more happy with the challenge."

Esme retrieved a letter from her reticule. "We should be back from Florence by All Hallows. Now, here." She handed the letter to Isabella. "This arrived in a bundle of dispatch from England. It was addressed to the Cardinal, he requested I deliver it to you directly."

Esme stood and smiled devilishly, "Enjoy your letter, my sweet. I still have to call upon Rosalie, Jane, and Bree."

Isabella walked out her back door and sat upon a chair that was happily situated facing the sun and overlooking the city. She opened her letter and took a moment to calm her racing heart.

_My humble remembrance, beautiful Isabella, hoping in the Almighty of your health which on my knees I beseech Him to long continue. For you hold my faith in all things and I have trusted you with my soul._

_It was thence, somewhere betwixt Italy's shores and Spain, that I came to the realization that 'tis not enough to sacrifice a single heart. Your beauty does haunt me, my Bella. __I found myself on my knees before God in this place where my Queen did take her husband, and I prayed that love should overrule obligation, all laws, all ties that bind duty and blood. But no. No! A fit of honor to vows already made, have ten thousand times broke my heart since our parting._

_I must abide unto my responsibilities, for much depends upon my attentions, but know this, sweet Bella. I will soon beg of Her Majesty to put me to use for crown and kingdom that I may travel to your shores once again. __If I am to rest ever again, we will be together. I find you now in my dreams and your lips are still sweet if only the moments were not too brief. I stare upon the gift you gave me of your likeness and speak to you as if you were here. Oh! If only you could answer. __I read from the poets, they offer no remedy for my despair. There are no medicines that I may take to ease my soul._

_Your kind servant presented me a token before departing my company on the last morning. She beseeched I accept it and take care not to open until I was securely in my own company. So in my bed, under covers and before extinguishing my candle on that first night, I opened it and was immediately surrounded by your, nay, _our _scents. Inside this package, bundled tightly, your dear servant, who will forever hold my esteem, had wrapped one green, emerald, robe that I wore on many occasions in your presence. For this, I humbly ask you to thank her. Even now, the scent fades but I shall wear it when I am alone while I search for you again in my dreams. _

_I am sure the last true joy I shall ever know will be in your arms. Until that day, my hands and head write to you from English soil, while my heart and soul remain forever yours in Venice. Humbling craving your embrace, this twenty sixth day of July in the year 1554. Knight of your heart, Edward_

* * *

><p><strong>AN**:

As for Tanya's illness. Briefly, she suffered a type of childhood illness and the high fevers associated with it, messed with her head. As a child, she'd go a little nutso when she got the fevers, but when she hit puberty, the hormones made things right in her body and soon the reactions ceased. When she became pregnant, the hormones once again put her body out of whack and the fevers are returning. This time, her brain is having a harder time dealing with the strain.

I would have posted this sooner, but I got sucked in to researching Cosimo I de'Medici. Seriously. If I would have known about him before writing this fic, things may have gone very differently.

I have noticed a ton of new readers. Please let me know how you found my little fic. And thank you, all!


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